I hear her hurried footsteps before she leans over the arm of the couch, her chin resting on Dad’s head.
“I’m serious, Lucas. You did amazing, we’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Ma.” I can’t help but smile because even as an adult, hearing my parents say I’ve made them proud is probably one of the best things to be told.
“Go get some sleep,” she gently suggests. “We love you.”
“Love you guys too.”
Melody’s head pops back into the frame, a fruit cup now in her hands.
“Bye, Mel!” I shout dramatically because I think it’s funny how disgusted she looks but she waves, regardless.
I give one last wave before ending the call and setting my phone back onto the counter, purposely scarfing my food down so that the ache in my chest that feels a lot like missing my family, doesn’t grow bigger.
Once I’m in bed, show on and lights off, I remind myself that even though the apartment is quiet and a little lonely, at least Preston isn’t here to turn the fucking air conditioner on.
So, small wins, I guess.
Five
Denise
“Pink is definitely your color.” Amiyah nods her head excitedly as I give a quick little spin in the dressing room mirror of our favorite boutique in the Ellingbrooke Mall, Tea Top.
This week’s current pop music plays in the background, the bass vibrating off the pink-striped walls of the dressing room.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I look down at the deep cowl neckline that would have my father telling me to go change but because I’ve never listened to him anyway, I continue to admire myself in the mirror.
“Since when have you ever cared about doing too much?”
“Fair enough.” I smile, turning back around to face the mirror.
I flatten my palms against the silky chiffon and admire how the shade looks on my freshly spray tanned skin and compliments the gold accents on my white acrylics.
“You sure you don’t want to come tonight?” I look at Amiyah through the mirror as she sorts through the pile of clothes sitting next to her. “I’m sure it’d be more fun than hanging out with Brian.”
She laughs. “You know there’s more to Brian than just his money.”
I turn back to face her. “Is there?”
Amiyah drops a yellow crop top onto her lap, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Clearly, she’s not impressed with my lack of care for our stepdad.
I still think five years is a very short time to know somebody. Granted, I don’t think I’ve ever really tried but that’s beside the point.
She sighs, shoulders dropping. “He’s not a bad guy, you know?”
“Never said he was.” I step away from the mirror and move toward the center of the room where Amiyah sits on the gold velvet couch. She and her hoard of clothes take up the otherwise empty round sofa.
Desperate to ignore the topic of Brian, I begin digging through her pile of clothes, holding out shirts to her chest. She again doesn’t appear thrilled at me changing the subject to how harsh the lighting from the centerpiece chandelier is.
And I know she’s right. Brian isn’t a bad guy. He makes our mom laugh, which we thought would’ve been impossible after divorcing our dad. He brought Amiyah and me into his home, never treating us like burdens or a packaged deal.
But he’s a reminder that good things come and go.
More often than not, it’s the latter.
Why bother getting attached to him?